


Executing the vile blood

by nana_kira



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Alfred does, Blood and Gore, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Loss of Limbs, Other, That's too much implied, What am I doing with my life.png, i don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 18:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20232589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nana_kira/pseuds/nana_kira
Summary: “Shh, come here my dearest. I will make you the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”





	Executing the vile blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cymatile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cymatile/gifts).

> Was initially supposed to be a tumblr ask prompt for cymatile, and I ended up liking it too much sooo... woops. It goes there now.
> 
> Alfred, you're insane and I love you.

Wood creaked under each of their rushed steps, fear, terror so evident in the pace they gave their footing as they tried for a desperate escape. Alfred clicked his tongue, annoyed. His dear Hunter really wasn’t set on making his job easier now were they?

He sighed, “Come now, my dearest. I’ll make it quick, a promise from a friend to another eh?”

From the damaged slats above him Alfred could see the shadow of the Hunter, and he cocked his gun, aiming a spot afar and timed his shot.

The scream echoed around the place, and it made the blond shiver in delight.

It’s not like the Hunter had many places to hide in, not when Alfred knew the Ward like the back of his hand. Burning pyres and rotten corpses a smell he’s learned to get used to, and when a poor fool of a beast stumbled upon him, it was only to find itself sliced neatly in half, skull crushed under the heavy boot of his attire.

A daily occurence it was now, and it only served him well. They could run but they would never hide.

Alfred could hear the Hunter fumbling inside of their coat for a vial he guessed, so he shot again, and the pained cuss that left their throat made him smile. Must’ve been the last one they carried.

“I’m coming up now, kindly wait for me?”

Not that he would leave them a choice either way.

—

The Hunter was in a pitiful state, Alfred would usually feel bad for them if not for the cruel turn of events that occured. When they tried to move, he stabbed their thigh with the edge of his sword, “Now now, the game is over my dear,” and the Hunter whimpered and shook, too tired to properly snap back.

“Pray tell me why?” It was a simple question he asked as he carefully took their hand in his and pulled the glove off, but the tone, the peculiar gleam in his eyes made the Hunter recoil and Alfred thought for himself that he liked this expression of fright painted on his friend’s face.

Former friend, rather.

“After everything I’ve done for you, what a pity… Another one gone to waste,” he was mostly muttering to himself at that point, anyone would think the man mad. He probably was. Most definitely was, actually. Alfred wasn’t at his first hunter seen, not the first he’s witnessed the death of, and one of the few he’s had to kill by himself as they turned foul and cursed.

This time was different, and he’s felt excitation run down his spine as he carefully took the rusty cleaver from the Hunter’s belt.

Without giving it any second thought, he dug the serrated blade in the flesh of their thigh, sawing through the muscle, making sure they felt every nerves snapping, until he reached the bone and the limb fell flat. Alfred didn’t even hear their screams, blood drumming in his ears rendering him deaf and shaking.

“Now you won’t run anymore, will you?” Alfred kneeled at their side, patting their covered cheek when he noticed their sobs of pain. “I said I would make it quick, have I ever deceived you?”

Of course, fast for Alfred could mean the Moon and whatnot.

Folding the cleaver into a smaller shape, he positioned himself, a malevolent smirk drawing on his face when he noticed the Hunter trying to crawl away only to rest their back against the wall when caught in their pitiful, useless attempt at escaping.

“Shh, come here my dearest. I will make you the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”

—

Thankfully, the Hunter’s retreat was on higher grounds, being disturbed making his work of art would’ve set Alfred in one of those mood he wasn’t peculiarly fond of. Not that anyone else would have to deal with him anyway but, still.

Stretching his legs, he stood up, admiring his work. Surprisingly enough, the Hunter was still breathing, even as their innards tied effectively their hands up and hung around their neck like a convicted’s rope. 

“My, what a tough one you are,” Alfred chuckled, sweeping the blood off his arms and forehead. “But I shall thank you for this treat my dear friend, it has been long since I’ve indulged in such a way.” Annalise had been the first and only after all. Vilebloods were a scarce gift nowadays.

He looked at the hand of the Hunter bearing the accursed brand, messily nailed to the wall. That mark that Alfred looked at in disgust. It made him want to defile the Hunter even more, even when on the brim of imminent death.

Oh well, it’s not like he couldn’t now, with the world gone to bloody ashes.

Patting the Hunter on the face, he beamed when feeling their skin twitch under his fingers. They were still alive, good. “My apologies, dear. I have one last matter to attend to, if you would be so kind to bear with me a little longer?”

The belt of his attire fell loudly on the ground and the Hunter closed their eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so not sorry for this.


End file.
